


Strangers in the Night

by tea_petty



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dominance, M/M, Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22646407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Jack wants to feel young again.
Relationships: Jack Cabot/Male Sole Survivor
Kudos: 21





	Strangers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr; tea-petty

Sole dropped his equipment to the floor with a weary clatter before falling to one of the cots. From the opposite wall, where a small, wooden desk was set, Jack put his gun on the surface before sagging into the chair.

“That was…closer of a call than I would’ve liked.”

Sole didn’t answer, just pulled his arm up across his eyes to block out the dismal lighting and Jack’s voice. 

“We were ill prepared, and slow in responding,” Jack continued and Sole set his jaw.

“Anyways, we made it out alive and Lorenzo is dead, so all in all, good work today. See that your injuries are treated, and then you’re set to go.”

At this, Sole jackknifed to a sitting position. 

“I’m…what?”

“Good to go.” 

Sole couldn’t believe this – he’d risked life and limb to chase after the Cabots’ crazy gaggle of enemies, and wound up solving centuries worth of daddy issues, and that was it? He was to just slap a band aid on his scrapes, shake some blood flow back into his bruised body, and leave?

“That’s it?” Sole demanded, “After everything? No pay? Not even a ‘thank you’? Last time I checked, this wasn’t a part of my job description.”

Jack said nothing as he draped his lab coat across the back of the desk’s chair. Now he started at the buttons on his shirt, undoing them, his right arm moving stiffly. Sole caught a glimpse of red blossoming through the fabric, soiling the light blue.

“I said you did good work,” he said, a little sharply. Then he sighed, and peeled his shirt from his form, unsticking the right sleeve from his gunshot wound. “And of course, you’ll be properly compensated, but…later. Right now I’m just –“ he looked like he had aged fifty years in five minutes, “tired.”

Sole watched as instead of reaching into the medical bag at his feet, Jack peered at the wound at his arm. It didn’t seem to be bleeding actively anymore, despite its grisly appearance, the blood seeped slowly, and had since stopped dribbling past a few inches below the point of entry.

Sole had been shot enough times to know that the wound should still be hemorrhaging blood. Instead it had eased to a slow, sluggish drip – a side effect of the Cabot’s serum, perhaps?

Sole snorted, feeling his flared temper lose its momentum, but too proud to take it back completely.

“You’re the one who should get patched up.”

“Yes,” Jack murmured, “I suppose I should. It won’t fix itself, not anymore.”

Sole got to work on his own shirt, unclipping the heavy pieces of metal he’d strapped to himself as makeshift armor, before pulling the garment over his head. He could smell the tang of his own sweat as he did so. Ugh, he could use a shower.

“Did it used to? Fix itself, I mean?”

“Almost instantly. The serum was super powerful – the first time I was shot, I barely had time to be shocked before the wound had closed up by itself.”

Jack reached into the medical bag, procuring a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of bandages. When Sole saw him next, he was struggling to douse the wound in the sterilizing agent. 

Sole, leaving his shirt crumpled atop his cot, shoved to his feet then, forgetting the weariness in his limbs. He took the bottle from Jack and splashed a generous amount into the wound. It sizzled softly, mingling with the hiss of pain Jack let out.

“Look at you now, treating shotgun wounds like the rest of us mortals.”

At the last word, Jack’s brow twitched, and for a moment, Sole felt sorry for what he’d said.

“Hey, I mean it’s not so bad. I mean, now you’re going to have some bitchin’ scars.”

Jack didn’t crack a smile.

“I wonder what else I’ll lose,” he mused. “My youth, my vitality…I really am past my prime now.”

“Aw, don’t say that.”

And again, Sole felt a tugging in his chest, like it was he who lost something, and not his boss. Eccentric and a little bossy as he was, Sole felt a little sorry for him still. That fine bone structure, the healthy shine to his hair, his solid build – all things perfectly preserved through the centuries, would wither into the loose skin as his body sloughed off the remainder of its days. His hair would fade into an ash gray, and then the white of the sheet they shrouded corpses in. He would grow frailer, and eventually, he would return to the earth. It hit Sole then – with how old Jack was, he’d never existed in a world without him.

What a strange and gutting thought.

Before he realized what was happening, Sole was drawing closer to Jack, the pads of his fingers skimming the palm of the other man’s hand.

He wanted to tell Jack that his worries were silly; that he was looking at him right then and there, and he didn’t look any less the man he usually was. He didn’t though; the words caught in his throat, tangled in his tongue, the stickiest of all lies. Both of them had seen the effects of the serum up close, had seen the power Lorenzo had, and consequently, the power that had died with him. Both of them knew that what Sole desperately wanted to tell Jack, was simply not true.

Jack, Sole thought, could sense this, and let his hand linger as a result.

Jack would waste away – that much, Sole could be sure of, despite him not having the centuries of research that he had. What else did Sole have then? With the warmth creeping up inside him, as subtle as a shadow, he felt the answer, before he acknowledged it as truth in thought.

He didn’t bother trying to catch himself as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against Jack’s. It was supposed to be quick, a sample to show Jack that while Sole had no idea what he’d lose later, that for now, he had his youth, his vitality.

Jack’s lips melded to Sole’s then though, his good hand reaching up to catch Sole’s face to his own. In that, he stretched the seconds into hours, the hours into an eternity. Sole rather thought, the Cabot’s had a gift with time – a frugality that his parents had with money, making every morsel count for as much as it could. Sole let him stretch the tiny moment until it threatened to give under the weight of their growing needs. Jack kissed Sole a little bit harder, and then suddenly, Sole couldn’t control the rising tide of his arousal inside him. He growled into the kiss, both hands reaching up to drag Jack against him. His body sagged into his employer’s, still in the chair, and feeling the warm tug of his cock in his trousers, he jerked his hips against the man.

Jack gasped.

Then his arms – both arms, reached and caught Sole as his body thrust against him again, his grip strong for a man who was laboring over a gunshot wound.

“Stop,” he grunted.

Sole couldn’t. He thrust again, and again was caught by those wonderfully strong hands.

“I said _stop_ ,” Jack said again, insistent. 

Sole groaned and staggered back a few steps. His skin was clammy with a new-sprung sweat, and he was sporting a raging hard on.

“What?” he demanded, his arousal commanding the only patience he could spare.

Jack’s eyes flashed.

“If we’re to do… _this_ , we’re not going to do it like mindlessly rutting animals.”

“I-what? What does that even mean?”

Jack regarded him coldly for a moment. His gaze drifted downwards on Sole, lingering at the tent he was pitching in his trousers. 

“Take them off. Your clothes.”

Sole stared blankly at Jack and his one-eighty.

“Huh?”

“ _Take off your clothes_.”

Sole’s stomach flip-flopped, and he felt that tugging again. He watched Jack, his hand drifting to the waistband of his pants, and popped the button. Jack broke their trance first, his eyes going to where Sole’s hand was easing his trousers down over his hips, letting them pool at his ankles. The tent got bigger now that it was just the thin fabric of his briefs to separate it from being fully bared. 

“Keep going,” Jack said, even though Sole was already starting at his underwear.

The elastic caught at his erection, and when he finally managed, his cock was bobbing from the resistance of the fabric it had just wrangled with. Sole kicked off his boots before finally letting the garments slip over his ankles and stepping out of them. There was adrenaline coursing through him, he thought, as Jack studied his nude form. His cock ached, as if Jack’s eyes themselves were teasing him.

“Lay down,” Jack raised his arm, pointing at the cot where Sole had abandoned his armor and shirt. “There.”

Sole wasted no time in following Jack’s instructions. He went eagerly to the bed, relishing the feel of Jack watching his backside as he did so. Then he pushed himself up onto the bed and stretched out. His cock jutted out into the air, demanding not to be left unattended. Jack sauntered over to Sole until he was standing directly the man, eyes once again on his throbbing length.

“I’m not even undressed yet, and you’re hard?”

Besides the fact that Jack was literally looking down on him, the condemning tone he took had fire flecking up and down Sole’s spine once again. This man thought he was pathetic while he was naked. Pathetic and needy, which made sense because he had nothing – not even the shirt on his back. It really was getting painful now, how aroused he was, and so as he lay, spread before Jack, willing for his employer to do something, _anything_ , even if it was just to humiliate him further, because something was always better than nothing.

But Jack didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything, never even tried to touch him. Sole arched towards him, frustration making his jaw clench.

“For fucks sake – _touch_ me already.”

Jack was unfazed by this. Instead, he started at his own clothes once more. His shirt already done away with; he went to undo the button at his pants. As he did so, his eyes continued to devour Sole, the eroticism in them only further building Sole’s impatience.

“No. Not yet,” Jack’s pants fell to his ankles with the clanking sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor. “Get on your hands and knees.”

There was that little, swooping thrill that felt like it was lighting every nerve ending on Sole up – and yet, he did not fall into submission like he had before. A part of him, the same part that was staring at the bulge in Jack’s own drawers, was a little curious as to what Jack might do if he did not obey.

As if reading his mind, Jack’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“Not obedient anymore? Don’t get any ideas, we can do this the easy way or the hard way but either way it _will_ get done.”

Still though, Sole remained on the bed, limp, privy to Jack’s every whim save his instruction. He waited, his skin burning at the prospects of what Jack might do in response.

Jack’s hand went to Sole’s inner thigh, feeling the tough play of muscle beneath the soft skin, where the wiry hair started to thin out. Sole sighed at the delicate touch, and then suddenly, a biting pain stung him, as Jack brought his fingers together with Sole’s flesh trapped in between. Sole moaned – a terse, tight sound, and his body contracted. The pain traveled through him like electricity shooting down a wire, and the contortion of Sole’s body only seemed to close the distance for the impulse – it went straight to his cock, and had his rigid hardness even harder, if that was even possible They released at the same time, and where Jack’s hand was, there was a mark where he’d pinched so sharply – undoubtedly, a bruise in the making.

“Now, get on your hands and knees.”

When the flash of thrumming pain had ebbed, Sole was hasty in flipping over onto his stomach before propping himself up on his hands and knees. Another sharp sting fell across him, and he’d barely registered the sound of Jack’s palm striking across his ass, before he moaned again – a whimpered, pathetic sound, as the intensity of the sensation went again, straight to his poor, aching cock.

Jack was hunched over Sole, his engorged tip pressing against Sole’s puckered asshole. Sole’s vision blurred- he was delirious with his desire, but some part of him watched as Jack reached into the nightstand beside the bed, yanking open the drawer so that it almost fell from the slotted mouth of the stand. Sole was unsurprised to see Jack procure a bottle of lube; almost pristine in packaging, a pre-war brand he vaguely recognized.

“Oh, do this sort of thing often with all _kinds_ of men here, do you?”

“Shut up,” Jack answered, though his cheeks were flushed.

Sole never saw Jack pour the oil into his hand – only heard it, and the felt the chill of it ring his entrance, as Jack rubbed it around his hole. He pressed one slickened finger into it. Sole stiffened, the friction feeling tight, terse, and deliriously _wonderful_. Another slipped in, with a bit ore resistance, and Sole shuddered.

“Fuck, can we just –“ he broke off, and Jack felt himself throb.

“Careful what you wish for,” he grunted.

Jack slunk his hand over his own length, working the oil over it. Sole could hear the slap of skin, and the lewd wet sound of Jack jerking himself off. After a few moments, the sounds subsided, and Sole felt the fat head of Jack’s cock press to his entrance. 

Sole felt a sharp contraction at his ass as Jack squeezed his buttocks, just shy of being painful. Then, the pressure intensified as Jack began to push himself into Sole’s asshole. He pressed himself about an inch or so in, his eyes transfixed on the point where he disappeared into Sole. Meanwhile, Sole had tensed under him, taking him in, but struggling with his girth. It only stoked the heat of his arousal.

The lube allowed Jack to slip in a few more inches; now, he was nearly hilted in Sole. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he grunted.

Jack rolled his hips against Sole’s ass, ignoring the strain at the feel of him dragging against Sole’s walls.

“You’re so _tight_ –“

He rolled his hips again, and this time, Sole gave a little more. The friction wasn’t so formidable them, but a welcomed heat strung through his nerves like lanterns. Sole clenched around Jack, and Jack let out a breathy, half-bark of a sound. The pleasure that jolted through him was so sudden it was nearly painful. 

“Or maybe –“ he broke off at another thrust from Jack, “you’re just _big_ ,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Jack’s finger went down to trace the perimeter of Sole’s asshole then, feeling the tense flesh beneath him, and how it tensed further in tune to his thrusts. The leftover lube from his finger left a wet smear around Sole’s entrance, and the sight almost made him harder.

Sole hitched a leg forwards suddenly, his ass spreading wider for Jack, who’d settled into a formidable pace. 

“Oh, fuck _me_ ,” Sole moaned.

Jack was silent, his thrusts unrelenting. His brow was furrowed in deep concentration; a look Sole had only ever seen in the lab, as he fucked him. As Jack thrusted, he felt the heat of friction, the heat of his own desire, stoking the heat of Sole’s.

Sole groaned as he felt Jack’s tip hit a particularly sensitive spot inside him.

“Are you going to beg?” Jack asked, the roughness of his breath adding an air of desperation to his voice.

His hands formed a vise-like grip around Sole’s hips then, and he thrust deep into the man below him. Sole’s ass flexed under the movement, so that Jack could trace the contour of the muscles with his gaze. He watched himself get swallowed inside of Sole, and his arousal flared. Jack grunted at the feel of Sole’s heat submerging him. 

Sole was addicted to the stretched friction inside him as Jack worked himself off on him. The deeper Jack thrust into him, the more Sole jolted at the opportunity to tilt backwards, and push himself further onto his cock, already fully hilted in him. 

“ _Ah_ – you look _sublime_ on me,” Jack grunted in his ear, hot breath fanning over it.

“It feels so –“ Sole broke off, and let out a choked sound as Jack thrust particularly hard.

Jack pulled out until just the tip was buried in Sole. Then he slammed into him, his hips slapping against his ass. He hastened in pace, leaving Sole scrambling for his breath, unable to keep up. The heat at his groin coiled tighter. The pace was faster, but somehow, the drag of Jack along Sole’s walls felt longer – the friction milked for all it was worth. Jack’s fingers tightened, and Sole half-thought he’d be bruised by the end of it, a dull ache settling at his hips, while in between a volatile heat threatened to scatter.

“ _Sole_ ,”

Jack’s heart seemed to swell every time he watched the judder of Sole’s body with him inside it. Sole was leaning back to meet Jack at each stroke now. The sound of their coupling only grew louder. 

“You’re better with me cock inside you,” Jack growled, a little meanly.

“Oh-“ Jack caught him off guard, as did the electric pleasure that flecked up Sole’s spin as Jack thrusted viciously into him.

He twitched, and both men could sense he was near.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Jack hissed again.

His pace stuttered, faltered despite how desperately Jack tried to remain hilted in him. His rhythm had a little hiccup, and then Sole felt that throbbing twitch again.

Warm seeped through him as Jack emptied himself into Sole. The man above him sagged on top, exhausted. When his chest ballooned with his breath, Sole could feel the wiry hairs of Jack’s chest brush against his back, and he sighed, contented.

He couldn’t bring himself to pull out of Sole – not yet. Here, Jack felt young, and virile. With Sole beneath him, he felt ageless. When his eyes flicked up and caught his reflection in the window, he was sapped of his strength and wanted to shrink into himself. Below him, Sole pressed deeper into him, thinking of the first of a million nights in a young man’s life.

Somehow, this only soured Jack’s mood.


End file.
